


Young Blood

by heohyunjoonz



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sports, Blood and Injury, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, One Shot, Other, Soccer Player Sunwoo, pretty much a vent lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22882369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heohyunjoonz/pseuds/heohyunjoonz
Summary: Sunwoo trips, and falls into temptation.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Young Blood

**Author's Note:**

> i’m just returning to writing after like a two year break so this may be rusty! 
> 
> also when i mention football please note that i’m talking about soccer not american football we just call it football where i’m from lol

Sunwoo spent a lot of time inside of his own head.

He couldn’t help but feel that he was never really the one in control of his mind. Rather, his mind had complete control over him.

He could never think straight, or speak clearly, and he certainly couldn’t articulate all of this to anyone around him.

Sunwoo worried; he worried that no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that these humours, that these impulses weren’t truly him, they were. Those severe moods, those baseless urges; they were Sunwoo, whether he liked it or not.

Despite it all, Sunwoo was always good at controlling himself when it came to these desires.

Or so he thought.

Sunwoo was alone on the football pitch after training one evening. He told his teammates to go in and get changed without him, since he needed some extra time to practise.

That was a lie. He was absolutely furious, and of course, he had no notion as to why.

He looked out over the expanse of the empty pitch, and kicked the football before him, as hard as he could.

He watched it soar through the air, before coming to an eventual, unsatisfactory landing at the opposite side. All that could be heard was the tart smack of the leather colliding with the concrete. That was nowhere near enough to appease Sunwoo’s anger, and with that, he let out a bellowing, throaty “Fuck!”

He began to jog towards the ball to retrieve it, feeling his head grow hotter. Fucking hell.

Suddenly, Sunwoo slipped, or tripped, it happened so fast that he couldn’t figure out which. He felt a scathing pain in his right knee.

He looked down.

A consistent stream of deep crimson blood was running down his leg.

A sizeable shard of glass was buried deep into his knee. Probably a remnant of a beer bottle that was once between the lips of some drunken teenager, Sunwoo thought.

He winced, an array of curses leaving his mouth as he reefed the chunk out. The feeling of it shifting from inside of him was stomach-turning. He could’ve gagged, feeling the crisp, cold air meet the gash. This only seemed to encourage it to bleed out even more.

He gazed at it for a moment.

It was as if he wanted to wipe it off, but something inside him was stopping him from doing so. He watched it, as it trickled ever so slowly down his leg, nearing his ankle.

He almost wished it would stay there, and stain. He imagined it, permeating his skin like the ink of a tattoo. He was entranced. His racing thoughts were finally silenced.

Without any of those thoughts around to hold him back, Sunwoo picked up the piece of glass again. The evening sun dove through it, creating a pretty prismatic pattern on his fingers. He inspected it; albeit quite thin, it was large, and sharp. It was already tinged by him,

Before he could give his actions any further thought, he was already grasping the fragment in his fist. He could feel it instantly, the weak skin of his palm almost bursting at the pressure. The pain was disorienting, and he could feel the glass puncture deeper with each second that passed. Every single nerve ending the glass met felt as though it had burst into flames. He didn’t want to stop.

He squeezed harder and harder, and harder, until he couldn’t put in any more strength, until his arm was shaking. Blood peeked out from the pads of his fingers that closed the fist, and began streaming down his wrist.

He let out an airy chuckle, watching it dribble down his forearm, thick and red. Fuck, why did that feel so good? He spares a quick glance to his leg. The blood was drying, forming a skin of sorts. On its travels, it had somewhat diffused, and spread out like the branches of a tree. It had stained his white football socks. He didn’t know how he was gonna explain that to his mother.

His eyes drifted towards his fist again, and he opened it slowly. It was destroyed, to put it simply. He couldn’t suppress the small gasp that left his lips. He didn’t know how he was gonna explain this to his mother either.

It was a mess, a mess of torn skin and fresh, lively blood. He could feel a heartbeat pulsating through the center of it, or at least he thought he could. The wound was much deeper than he expected. He watched the dirtied glass fall from his hand, and onto the grass below him. It was to bleeding no end, but it flowed without haste, gently decorating his flesh.

Again, he felt hypnotised. It was as if he was watching the life gush out of him; everything that made him who he was escaping his body, in the most gruesome way possible. A dopey smile was plastered across his face. He liked that thought; everything that made Sunwoo who he was, gone.

Gone for good, dripping down onto the soil beneath him and dying it scarlet. Traces of him, forming glistening beads on the blades of grass. He pictured himself, lifeless on his back, draining until there was nothing left, just a reminder of what Sunwoo once was, on the pitch like a deflated balloon.

He wondered how his teammates would react if they found him like that; Eric would certainly make a scene, his huge voice breaking through the weighty, sombre silence. He thinks Changmin would faint at the sight of it all, maybe Haknyeon would too. He thinks of his mother, and how she’d react. He wished that these thoughts made him feel something.

He watched a singular drop of blood gather at the end of his palm, and fall.

He chuckled.

Wait.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the fuck? Suddenly, the fogginess in his mind dissipated. Why did he do that? Jesus Christ. His eyes bounced back and forth between each wound.

Despite having somewhat dried up, the slit on his knee was still leaking, and of course, the gaping hole in his palm was too. He uttered a noise of discomfort, somewhere between a scream and a wail, and stood up straight away. His thoughts were running at an unfathomable speed. He instinctively bent over to try wipe his leg, but yelped when he remembered the state of his hand.

The sight before him was dizzying. He felt like puking, but he had made too much of a mess already.

He had finally given in.

The blood was running freely now, the change in gravity forcing it to switch directions. His arm felt warm, and wet, and sticky, and the overwhelming ache in his palm was hard to ignore.

He sprinted inside, to try and clean himself up as fast as he could.

As expected, his teammates, and the coaches, and the manager made a fuss. A big, mighty fuss.

He told them he has slipped, and that was only partly a lie. His teammate Hyunjae slapped him on the back of his head, and told him to ‘watch where he’s fucking going next time’. Sunwoo cracked some jokes and they all had a laugh about it. They bandaged him up and sent him home. Everything was fine.

As he dragged his feet behind him on the pavement, and as his thoughts gradually balanced, he smirked to himself. He could almost feel it all again if he visualised it hard enough; the glass piercing his skin, the blood dancing down his leg, the searing pain of the alcohol wipes dragging across his little masterpieces. Fuck, it felt good.

Maybe it was the sudden clarity it had brought his mind, or maybe it was how mesmerizing it all seemed to be, but it played on repeat in his head for the rest of the night,

and what was to stop him from doing it again?

**Author's Note:**

> if u read it all thanks !


End file.
